Sgt. Mark J. Bunnell, Co. B, 13th New York Infantry, On the Battle

9 08 2014

From Orderly Bunnell.

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Splendid weather — Our volunteers dissatisfied — Don’t know what for — Threaten to come home anyhow — Resignation of Co. Quinby — Stephen in command – The Battle — In a tight spot — How he got out — One poor fellow shot — Evening parade — Expects to come home — Long yarns promised.

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Fort Bennett, Arlington Heights,

August 7, 1861.

We are having splendid weather now. Although it is quite hot, a nice breeze comes off the Potomac, and makes it pleasant. — Our regiment is in a bad state — the men all dissatisfied, and they don’t know what for! They say they will go home the 14th at all hazards. I think they are foolish to act and talk so. It won’t do any good. Our Col. has resigned and gone home, and Col. Stephan commands now.

I will give you further reasons why I did not write sooner after coming back from the battle. I was completely tired out, had the reports of the company to write up, and a good deal other work to do for a week; a number of the other boys wrote, and I thought that you would hear from us and not be alarmed. Still I ought to have written but is is all right now, and I feel to thank God for my life. It makes me shudder to think of the battle. I was in a bad place at one time. Our company and regiment got scattered, all was confusion, and we could hardly tell who the enemy was; and when we made a charge on one of their batteries, they rushed out and said that we were killing our own men, and we ceased firing. They looked so much like our own men that we did not known the difference until they opened a fire on us. That is the way they would fight. Some of their uniforms closely resembled ours, and we got so mixed up that we didn’t know what to do but to keep shooting and laying down and loading, &c. But I commenced telling was a place I got into. Almost choked to death for water, I rushed into and old stone building where the balls were flying like hail, and what do you think it was? It proved to be a rebels’ hospital, and there I stood surrounded by rebels. I said nothing. — They were very busy cutting off arms and legs and doing up wounds. I thought I would walk out a little ways and then start on a run. So I stepped in front of the building, when about a dozen balls, came spat! spat! at me, and I thought I had better dig out of that as fast as possible — and I told my legs to do their duty, and I guess they did. There was a perfect shower of balls after me, and if God did not save me, what did? — Wasn’t I thankful when I got out where our troops were? A poor fellow just in front of me when most to our men, was hit by one of the balls which I think were intended for me. He immediately dropped, saying, “Oh, God, I am shot.” Poor fellow, he died like a soldier.

The drum is beating for evening parade, and I must close. It is now reported that we shall go home when our time is up; you shall receive due notice. When I get home I will tell you some long yarns.

From your soldier brother,

M. J. Bunnell

Dansville [NY] Advertiser, 8/15/1861

Clipping Image

Contributed by John Hennessy

Mark. J. Bunnell at Ancestry.com








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